


24k Magik

by PommeDeTorterra



Category: New Mutants (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: And 'Yana., And basically every character named in this fic once or twice., Bonding, Canon Compliant, Drinking, Gen, No beta - we die like Doug., Pining, Platonic Female/Male Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23423116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PommeDeTorterra/pseuds/PommeDeTorterra
Summary: Illyana just got the news that her best friend, the love of her life, is marrying her brother. Fortunately, she's pretty sure Roberto can relate.or'Yana and Bobby get drunk and chat about their idiot straight best friends
Relationships: Illyana Rasputin/Kitty Pryde (One-Sided), Roberto da Costa & Illyana Rasputin, Roberto da Costa/Sam Guthrie (One-Sided)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 38





	24k Magik

**Author's Note:**

> lmao canon 
> 
> If we ain't getting X-stories this week, I'll make my own, dammit.

Roberto da Costa was _not_ hungover.

Hangovers were for other people. Bobby was rich. He was a superhero. He was beautiful. He was _important._ So it only stood to reason that he couldn't be hungover, and the incessant throbbing in his head was some sort of heretofore unknown secondary mutation, that was coincidentally brought on by a truly heroic amount of tropical drinks with delightful little umbrellas. And that was fine, no problem at all. It simply meant, for the good of mutantkind, that he would never drink again. 

Still, regardless of how hungover he was not, the crackle of sound and disc of _hideously_ bright light that heralded his former teammate's arrival into his bedroom was decidedly less than welcome.

He swore, vividly and impressively, shielded his eyes with his arm, and sat up in his bed. 

"What," he managed, "the hell."

Illyana Rasputin had been a lot of things over the years - though perhaps it may have been more accurate to say a lot of things had been Illyana Rasputin. On some level, Roberto understood that the woman standing in front of him wasn't _exactly_ the same person he'd grown up with, but for the most part he didn't worry about it too much. Some version of her knew some version of him, and vice versa, and regardless of anything as unimportant as origins, they were friends, they were teammates, and six days out of seven he'd die for her. And yet, he couldn't help but realize that the last time he'd seen her cry was when they were still teenagers (though not for long, in her case), before the version of Illyana he'd grown to think of a sister had effectively died. 

The Magik who had teleported into his room was _definitely_ crying now, though her expression seemed more furious than downcast. That probably wasn't helped by the half empty bottle of whiskey in her hand, he figured, though it wasn't as if he was in much of a position to judge anyone in _that_ regard at the moment. Still, he thought, whatever was going on had to be _bad,_ worse than when Kitty came back from space engaged to some gun-slinging idiot. Illyana had had a rough time with that, sure, but she sure as hell hadn't cried about it...

"Okay," he said, doing his damndest to ignore the pounding in his skull and slip back into his typical bravado, "this was bound to happen eventually. You're a sorceress, I'm charming, it's only natural that you'd join the hordes of women who long for me. But really, 'Yana, if you'd given me some warning I'd at least have put some clothes on. However temporarily."

Illyana ignored him, and simply took a swig from her bottle.

Roberto's eyebrow quirked up, before he frowned at her. "Nothing? Isn't this normally where you call me an idiot? Where's the banter, Magik, where's the _rapport?_ " 

More silence, another drink.

Okay, now he was scared. This wasn't like her at _all,_ and he was far more out of practice at being Roberto-the-supportive-friend than Roberto-the-jokey-flirt. Still, for her, he'd try. "Illyana, what's going on?"

"She's engaged again."

He blinked - that was unexpected. "What, is Space Thot back in the picture?"

"To... Piotr."

 _Oh._ "Shit."

"Yes." Illyana went for the bottle again, only to throw it aside in disgust when she realized it was empty. "I thought that maybe…" She trailed off, before wiping her face, and making one hell of an effort to compose herself.

"Of course," Bobby nodded, then swung himself out of bed, and over to his closet. He hadn't expected to break his promise to himself quite this early, but what were friends for? He thumbed through the hangers, before pulling one out with a nod of approval. "Just gimme a second to get dressed, then we can head out."

Illyana glowered, arms crossed, but eventually nodded in agreement. "Fine, but hurry, or I'll simply teleport you myself."

Bobby responded with a full-body shudder that was only mostly exaggerated for effect. "Ugh, please, no. No offense, 'Yana, but I've spent _more_ than enough of my life naked in Limbo." He grinned as he slipped into a maroon dress shirt. "Then again, that _is_ where I ended up with the best beard I ever had."

"You shouldn't talk about Amara like that, you know."

Roberto choked, and spun around to glare at her. "That's not - I meant- She wasn't- What…" In the face of Illyana's teasing laughter, he just growled in frustration and pointed to his bedroom door. "Leave me be, Rasputin," he finally managed. "I am in _no mood_ for your nonsense. But seriously, gimme a couple minutes, I'll be right there." 

She snapped to attention, and gave an over the top salute. "As you wish, Supreme Leader." She chuckled again, and left the room, making a point to leave his door open. Roberto just sighed, and pulled on his boxers. At least, he thought, she was still finding things to laugh about. It could be so much worse.

  
  
  
  


An hour and a half (and an appletini that he had been nursing for far longer than he cared to admit) later, he realized he had been wrong. Laughter was terrible. Crying, silence, any of that emotional, goth-y, pop-punk _bullshit_ was better. It had been a while since the two of them had hung out alone, not since their last big emotional crisis, and he'd almost forgotten just how cutting Illyana could be. It wasn't that she was _mean_ , per se, he gave as good as he got, and there were times where it seemed like the entire shared New Mutants experience was somewhere in between brutal roasting and passive-aggressive, mostly platonic flirting, but he'd spent so much of the past two years with his various Avengers teams that he was more than a little out of practice. He was surrounded by incredibly bright people all the time these days, which was fine, it was the _point_ , but A.I.M banter, hell, _Avengers_ banter, was a lot less…

...well, it was a lot less likely to get under his skin. 

Just went to show, he supposed, for as much as he'd been leaning into the evil mastermind thing lately, he still had nothing on a true professional. 

"Anyway!" He said, cutting her off mid-flow, "we're ignoring the Sentinel in the Danger Room here. Are we gonna talk about the Kitty thing, or not?"

She frowned, and drained the last remnants of beer from her mug, lost in thought. "We're absolutely circling back to your Magnum P.I. self-insert fanfiction, da Costa, but…" She paused, and looked almost afraid. 

He raised an eyebrow, but waited for her to continue. It was a sensitive topic - he knew that better than anyone, and he knew that she'd need at least some time to work up to it, even if he did have a sneaking suspicion that the bottle she'd shown up with had been more of a prop than any evidence of actual drinking. Illyana was only slightly more emotionally open than Cable had been when they first met, and liquor was as good an excuse as any to actually let those barriers down for a while.

To his genuine surprise, she finally answered. "Do you know why I came to you?"

"Rebound," he answered on instinct, wincing as the word fell from his lips. "Sorry. Habit. I… I'm pretty sure I know." Of _course_ he knew. Almost everyone probably did, even if they never brought it up. _Almost_ everyone, which was the problem.

"It's because despite your oversexed frat boy act, you've always been a damn good friend when it comes down to it."

He let out a small sigh of relief, and took another sip of his drink. That definitely wasn't where he thought she was going to go, and, if he was being honest, it was a hell of a compliment coming from her.

"Also, you've been silently in love with Sam for the entire time I've known you, so if anyone should understand what I'm going through…"

He choked on his drink, and made a valiant effort not to spit it out. _There_ was the other shoe. "Touché, I suppose." 

She raised an eyebrow, and signaled for another beer. "What, no denial?"

"Of course not," he managed, "I'm an _exceptional_ friend."

"Bobby…" 

He sighed, and shrugged his shoulders in resignation. "What do you want me to say, Illyana? We can do the whole song and dance, waste everyone's time, sure. Lord knows we're great at that. Or we can cut the bullshit for once, and admit that we're both in love with idiots. Straight, obtuse matrimony-inclined _idiots._ Any preference?"

She shrugged, taken aback. "Alright, that's fair. I guess I just wasn't expecting you to actually admit to anything?"

Roberto frowned, and stared at the reflection in his glass, as Illyana was handed another mug. He wasn't sure when exactly he had started looking so tired, but he could take a guess. "Don't get me wrong, if you try to bring this up at literally any other point, I'll deny it up and down the street. But here? Now? For you? I'll commiserate."

"Hm." She gave a thoughtful nod, then smiled. "Like I said, you're a good friend."

"Damn right."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither really sure where to go from there, before Illyana finally broke the silence. "So. How did _you_ handle the marriage thing?"

"Well," he grimaced, "I basically told Captain America and Iron Man to get over their egos, used my _own_ ego to purchase A.I.M., started my own Avengers, built my own island, and basically kept myself too busy saving the world to think about it."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

He grinned, and made a non-committal motion with his hand. "More or less. It's been a busy couple of years."

"I can relate." The silence lasted a little longer this time, though it was far less awkward. "Does not thinking about it help?"

"I'll let you know if I ever manage for more than a day." She laughed, and he gave a wry chuckle of his own. "It's… it's not easy. It's not as if I can just go no contact with my best friend, and after so much time it's not like I can tell myself it was all just a crush, y'know?"

Illyana nodded. "Likewise. Kitty's the only person I've ever cared about romantically."

"You've got me beat there, 'Yana. I fall in love like it's going out of style. But… I think I can relate when it comes to intensity."

"I've had… _crushes_ before, don't get me wrong," she said with an uncharacteristic twirl of her wrist, "but that was all… before."

Roberto nodded. She didn't need to clarify what she meant there - dying twice and having to fight for your very soul was enough to change anyone's viewpoint on life. 

"For a while after I came back, I thought that maybe I was simply broken."

"Illyana…"

"It was stupid, of course," she continued with the sort of fierce determination she typically reserves for battle, ignoring him. "Of course I was broken. My soul was torn to literal pieces, and I clawed my way through hell and earth to regain them. But I did. I repaired myself, and I am stronger than anyone could _dare_ to imagine." Her eyes softened, though her tone didn't, and she looked him in the eyes. "To a large extent, I owe a lot of that to my fellow New Mutants. I may have only been in love with Kitty, but know this: I truly love each of you." 

"You're a weirdly formal drunk, y'know that?"

She sputtered, and he smirked - it was rare enough for him to catch her off guard that he was absolutely going to relish it. "Bobby, I'm trying to be sincere!"

"Yeah, don't get me wrong, same, obviously." He waved her off, and leaned back in his chair. "Any one of us would be here for you, you know that. You're just such a _dork_ about it. _This_ is why everyone used to think you and Doug were going to hook up."

"I beg your pardon."

"I mean obviously Douggie-boy's one true soulmate is a little less infernal, and a little more extraterrestrial, but…"

"For the love of everything, let's not start on the other New Mutant teenage drama. I can't handle it right now."

"Which is hilarious," he continued, "because I'm like the only person on the team who never had a thing for Kitty."

"You're exaggerating." 

"Am I?" He leaned forward again, and began to count on his fingers. "You. Doug. Shan. Dani. Sam for like a week."

"And you were somehow immune? You were more of a dog than Rahne."

"Wow, rude. It took me a while to get over the 'X-Babies' nonsense, I guess?"

Illyana chuckled, and shot him a sly glance. "I bet, seeing as you were the youngest."

"I beg your pardon, Rasputin, I was like, third youngest at best. And TECHNICALLY you were born years after me. I'm not gonna sit here and be _sassed_ by a teenager, young lady."

"Why stop now, right?"

Roberto tried to glare, but one look at her face made his mask crack, and the two mutants devolved into peals of laughter. "I swear," he finally wheezed, "I'm not sure if you wanted like actual emotional support or whatever, or just to make fun of me."

"What gave you the idea that making fun of you _isn't_ emotional support?" Bobby just shook his head fondly, and lightly punched her in the shoulder. 

"You've got issues, 'Yana."

She shrugged - not like there was any point in denying that particular claim. Water was wet, Kurt was blue, and she had a lot going on. "Obviously. That's why I'm day-drinking."

He chuckled again, before turning suddenly serious. "Probably a silly question at this point, but did you ever tell her how you felt?"

Illyana hummed, and tilted her head slightly. "Was there much point? I've spent a lot of time over the years listening to her rationalize obvious attraction to women as platonic admiration. Rachel. Ross. Why add myself to the list?"

Bobby winced in sympathy. "Yeah, comphet's a pain in the ass like that."

"...'Comphet?'"

"You're a little out of touch on the praxis there, huh, Illy Azalea?"

She frowned, and made a point of putting her mug down as firmly as she possibly could without breaking it. "I am not so out of touch as to let you think you can ever call me that again, 'Berto." 

"No worries, there are other nicknames." He winked, and she responded with a roll of her eyes.

"No. I've never told her, at least… at least not bluntly enough that she couldn't ignore it. I tried to hug her, not too long ago?" 

"Damn, menina," he whistled, "you initiated a hug? That's like a full-blown confession. That's roses and a brass band type stuff. You're not exactly a hugger."

"Yes. That's what she said, right after phasing through me so I fell face-first into the snow. I am 'not a hugger.'"

"I mean. Were you Mystique? It sounds like you were Mystique."

Illyana sighed in disgust, before reaching over to ruffle his hair, laughing as he let out an entirely undignified squeal. "I was not Mystique. That's not even slightly how that works." She paused, as he tried to use the glass's reflection to fix his hair back to its carefully, _intentionally_ disheveled look, before continuing. "And what about you, smartass?"

"What about me?"

"Have you ever told Sam how you feel?"

He didn't answer at first, unsure exactly how much teasing he'd sign himself up for if he was honest. Once his hair was acceptable, he turned back to face her, sighed, and decided to go for broke. "Oh, yeah. Constantly. All the time. 'Hey Sam, great hustle out there, love ya.' 'Guthrie, I need you to join my _New_ New Avengers, oh, what's that, you'll live here five days a week? Great, have I ever told you how much I love you?'" He shook his head, bitterly. "I swear to God, I think his secondary mutation is obliviousness. I've been telling him over, and over, and _over_ for years, and he thinks it's just a… just… Gah!"

"A 'bromance?'" 

That did it. He'd been nursing his drink the whole time, but the second he heard that word, the second he heard that letter at the start, Roberto was done. He downed the drink, then stole Illyana's to follow it up for good measure, ignoring her protest. "I am sick and fucking tired of that B, 'Yana."

She frowned, retrieving her now empty mug from his treacherous clutches. "Izzy?"

"What? No! Izzy's fine! She's great! I'm glad he's happy, whatever! I'm tired of 'bromance!' I've been tired of it for years!" Bobby threw his arms into the air, as his voice got louder - he knew he was getting a weird look from the bartender, but he didn't even care. "That boy is so dense that Logan couldn't cut him! Do you know what we were doing when we were recruited for the Avengers?"

Illyana shrugged, clearly trying to decide if she was worried or amused. "Not really? I know that was after you and Amara broke up, and the whole Dammi thing fell apart?"

"We were on a goddamn beach vacation to ease our broken hearts. There were couples massages, there were drinks, there were feelings jams, there were my frankly amazing abs, and do you know what he said once we got to the hotel and he realized there was only one bed?"

"...what?"

"'No worries, Bobby! Ah'll take the couch.'" 

Illyana tried her damndest to keep her composure, but she couldn't help but crack up once Bobby slipped into a truly terrible southern drawl - it was definitely more Rogue than Cannonball, but she got the feeling that was the point. He started to frown at her outburst, before realizing the ridiculousness of the whole situation, and joining her. 

"I'm sorry, Bobby, that's not funny, it's just…"

"No, honestly, it _is_ pretty damn funny."

She smiled, and wiped a tear from her eye - as embarrassed as Bobby was, he was definitely glad that she was crying from laughter now. It was a hell of a lot better than the alternative. "What did we do to deserve these idiots, 'Berto?"

"We're just criminally beautiful, my friend," he said with an exaggerated sigh. "Criminally beautiful. They really are idiots, though, aren't they?"

She nodded. "At least yours isn't marrying your brother. I'm happy for them both, of course, but it stings. I've had my soul ripped out before, this is somehow worse."

He nodded, and gave her a sad smile. "I get you. But hey, for what it's worth, marrying ain't married. Talk to her, 'Yana. You owe it to yourself to be honest."

"And don't I owe it to Piotr to keep it all to myself? Don't I owe it to _her_?"

"Man," he replied, "screw them."

"Roberto-"

"No, listen. I like them, and all, but _you're_ the one who's one of my best friends. New Mutants gotta stick together, okay? I know you're palling around with the X-Men now these days, doing all your Penis Five crap-"

"I realize you just had a big gay breakdown, but I promise you, it was the Phoenix Five."

Roberto stopped, mid-rant, and stared at her with the exact same expression as when she'd first shown up from the dead, a mix of amazement, bewilderment, and joy that made him look more than a little hilarious. "No. You mean you don't know?"

"I know everyone called us the Phoenix Five, but-"

He shook his head, gleeful to the point of terrifying. "Piotr. Emma. Namor. Illyana. Scott. Put that together, and…"

The gears turned in her mind, before she groaned, and banged her head down onto the table. "Bobby?"

"Mm?" 

"I take back everything I have ever said about you being a good friend."

Illyana couldn't see him grin, but she could practically feel it. This unwelcome realization was almost worse than the engagement. Still, she had to admit that Bobby's advice might not be the absolute worst idea… If nothing else, being honest with Kitty might give her the closure she needed.

But first, she decided, she definitely needed another drink.

**Author's Note:**

> (for the record, i don't actually think kate is straight, but i think she thinks she is.)
> 
> (like bobby said, comphet's a pain.)


End file.
